The Worst Kind of Torture 2
by RareReality
Summary: The sequel to The Worst Kind of Torture. It's Hobbes' turn, and it's not pretty.


Sorry I haven't written anything for a while. Been real busy lately. Anyway, this is the sequel to The Worst Kind of Torture. Despite my generous offers of money and candy, I still don't own any of these characters, so don't sue me. All you'll get is my computer, my mobile phone, and my Orange TicTacs. Enjoy the story!  
  
RR  
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They were there. He could smell them. A single eye cracked open to look at the SWRB guys staring back at him. He wasn't quite sure how he knew they were from the SWRB, but he knew. Oh yes, he knew.  
  
"Good morning Mr. Hobbes. I'm glad you're awake. You're just in time."  
  
Hobbes sat up, wide awake and squinted at the tall, raven-haired, hulk-of-a- man that had just spoken. He took a moment to asses the group. Five of them, all wearing dark suits, sunglasses, and very shiny guns at their hips.  
  
"Just in time for what?" Hobbes queried.  
  
A smile crept across Raven-Hair's face, sending a cold chill down Bobby's spine. A crooked finger beckoned him to come, and Hobbes got down off the stretcher he was lying on and followed through the grey door, briefly surprised that he hadn't been restrained at all. A glint of the fluorescent lighting on the barrel of one of the guns caught him in the eye as they trudged down the stark white hallway, and he realised why they hadn't bothered.  
  
After what seemed like ages, they finally came to a single grey door. Hobbes looked down the way they had just come and saw that it was the only one in the whole corridor. He turned to look up the other way and saw only an endless corridor. Another chill ran along the agent's spine, and it had nothing to do with the temperature.  
  
Raven-Hair looked directly at Hobbes and nodded, never breaking eye contact. One of the other guys Stepped forward and ceremoniously opened the door to reveal... A parking lot? Hobbes looked around in confusion before being signalled through the door. The others followed him, and soon they were all standing on the bitumen. Hobbes continued to scan the empty parking lot that seemed to stretch for as far as the eye could see. He heard the click of the door behind him and turned.  
  
"So what's with the parking... What the?!"  
  
Hobbes eyes almost fell out of his head when he turned to see the five be- suited men standing in front of a little tin shed.  
  
"What the... Where did the... Okay, what the hell is going on here?" he demanded.  
  
Raven-Hair just smiled and motioned for Hobbes to turn around.  
  
Bobby glared suspiciously at the man, but did as instructed. When he turned he saw Golda about 50 metres away, where moments before there had been nothing.  
  
"Aww, crap. Just call me Alice," Bobby gulped worriedly, half expecting the words "Eat Me" to be printed on the side of the rusted old van.  
  
At last, Raven-Hair spoke, "You see, Mr. Hobbes, we have just created a new weapon that has countless possibilities. But, like everything, it must be tested." Bobby paled.  
  
"I'm guessing that would be on me, right?" Raven-Hair shook his head.  
  
"No Mr. Hobbes. We would never dream of testing things on people without their permission."  
  
Hobbes snorted in disbelief, but was filled with panic when Raven-Hair reached into his impossibly small shirt pocket and pulled out a black box the size of a brick with a big, red button in the middle. Hobbes' mouth went suddenly dry and he choked out the words, "What is that for???" Raven- Hair just grinned and his unnaturally long finger reached out and pushed the button.  
  
Hobbes watched in slow motion as the van rose up into the air, paused, and exploded. The look on his face was of pure horror as his beloved van, his Golda, was ripped into pieces of twisted metal and burning rubber. A cry of anguish escaped from his lips and he fell unto his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.  
  
In the background he heard Raven-Hair's deep chuckle emanating from his chest. The low sound grew higher and higher in pitch and volume until it was a piercing screech that filled his ears and his mind. He covered his ears, trying to keep out the blare, but to no avail. He screamed.  
  
Hobbes' eyes snapped open to see soft brown ones staring right back at him through the dirty windshield. Hobbes looked around at the interior of the van before grabbing his shrieking cell phone, winding down the window, and hurling it at The Agency's garage wall. Darien walked over to the open window and watched as Hobbes proceeded to run his hands over every single square inch of the van with wide eyes and laboured breath.  
  
"Sleepin' on the job again, Hobbesy? The Fat Man wants us in his office."  
  
Hobbes looked up at his partner calmly, only his eyes betraying the panic and fear that had, just seconds before, consumed his entire being.  
  
"I'd, uh... just like a second with Golda if you wouldn't mind."  
  
A look of understanding washed over Fawke's face and he ran a hand through his gravity-defying hair, pulling it a few times just to be sure.  
  
"Nightmare, huh?"  
  
Bobby nodded. Fawkes walked over to the stairs and turned just before going up.  
  
"Hey Hobbes?"  
  
"Yeah Fawkes?" Hobbes asked.  
  
"Fat Man's gonna make you pay for that phone you know."  
  
"I know." 


End file.
